Herd

Two years of work, all in one place. The Herd has invaded the Austin Peay State University New Gallery.

Headless Herd members march into the exhibit on a platform. They are built of quilts made over the past ten years. Photo: Amir Aghareb

My art has an undercurrent of peculiarities and humor. I look for things that are uncanny—those elements in life that don’t quite make sense. They’re on the edge. Darkness seeps in with the cares of the day and moods of the moment. Scratchy, murky textures appear. Grids dissolve. Patterns stop repeating. There is often a dissolution in the narrative.

Moving from two-dimensional surfaces to three-dimensional forms, I built a herd this year. The members have no heads. They are diverse and a little disturbing. Where are they going? What has the herd heard to draw them here? Let loose upon my studio floor and tables, they wandered aimlessly. They could be me and you. They could be them. They stay together, they move as one, letting someone else or something else dictate their actions.

The Herd marches on its platform to watch the I watch too much tv news show.

At the gallery the Herd is flanked by Yesmen. They nod yes when you pull their strings. Area Environments provided some of the designs I created in the form of wallpaper. The piece hanging in front of the wall on the left (Many Moons) is the original that created the wallpaper behind it. Amazing to see my stitching in giant form.

Herd of stuffed headless beasts

photo: Amir Aghareb

One of the Yesmen floats in space with a chuckle on its face. photo: Amir Aghareb

The Dark Matter wallpaper, provided by Area Environments, frames these three pieces: Silos, The Usual Suspects and Thugs. I like how they merge with the patterned paper.

photo: Amir Aghareb

I love watching people get close to my work, zooming in on the detail of the work. Dark Heart, detail. photo: Amir Aghareb

Silos, detail

Michael Dickins at the sewing machine.

As part of the exhibit I had the opportunity to talk with community members about my work during an artist talk. There were a number of people with excellent questions, some of which I really had to think about before speaking. It’s great talking with people who are engaged and curious. The next day I entertained a large group of students during a gallery talk. What could be better? That evening the gallery was open to the public again. I set up a sewing machine so people could try drawing with stitch.

The folks at Austin Peay have been welcoming and supportive. Michael Dickins, the gallery director, created an environment for the work that enhanced the message and invited people to spend time thinking about the work. Dr. Dixie Webb wrote an essay about my work and the show that places me in the slipstream of other artists and art movements. Tobias Layman built benches and the platform to accommodate the works. The addition of the wallpaper from Area Environments topped it all off. As an artist I feel honored to have been invited to have this show. The bonus of meeting and working with these folks has been better than I could have imagined.

The show is up until September 16 in Clarksville, TN—a short hop from Nashville. A little bit of a drive from elsewhere. There is a virtual version of the show on their website.

My heartfelt thanks go to Austin Peay State University department of Art+Design, Center of Excellence for the Creative Arts (CECA), The Association of Academic Museums & Galleries (AAMG) and Area Environments for this opportunity.

The tip off

Here’s a quick post about a piece that came together this month. I had some precious moments between teaching and preparing for the show at Austin Peay. It was good to be back in the studio, surrounded by raw materials.

It starts with some of those raw materials—pieces of cut up quilts, some fabric from Pat Pauly, and a bird chirping a new tune outside my window.

That bird was blasting it out. It seemed like a warning cry or territory claim—something that couldn’t be ignored. I listened to it for quite a while and looked around to see if there was a snake or another bird infringing on its territory.

Designing is a series of choices. This not that. Maybe some of the other stuff? No not that. I add and subtract, growing the piece until it starts telling me what it needs. Nothing is sewn together until I feel like there is a right way to put two pieces together.

I thought maybe the bird needed a witness. So I built one.

I did like the silhouette of the human but did not like the bottom part of him. So I lopped that off and added a wider expanse. The swirly inkblot came from a piece I did last year that happened to be hanging near the design board—a perfect candidate for the warning cry coming from the bird on the left. You can see how I debut other pieces below the composition. Some make the cut, others go back in the raw materials bin.

There comes a time when I do have to commit. I reassemble the composition on a table to be able to pick up each section to connect them. They’re like puzzle pieces. ….I do love puzzles. Each piece is butted up to its mate and stitched with a decorative stitch or free-motion stitch. Since the pieces are already quilted it would be difficult to seam them so this butting process makes that a little easier. The decorative stitching can be more or less obvious depending on how I want the piece to look. In this case I used black thread to emphasize the connections.

All along the way I add some detail stitching. In the case of the image below I thought the background floral fabric was too bright so I painted it with some thinned fabric paint to allow for the detail stitching to stand out more.

This dialog between the bird and the human became a warning cry to me. Living in a city I am aware of how little green space we have and how much is being paved over. So I crowded in some buildings.

The Tip Off. 26” x 69”, found fabric, cotton thread, wool batting. Paula Kovarik

The final piece. Maybe. I’ll let it sit awhile before I decide if it is really done.

Want to take a workshop?

If you would like to learn by doing I will be teaching at a number of locations this fall. Check the listings at right for how to register. I will be teaching free-motion stitching in San Diego at the SAQA Summit Conference September 22-24 and an At Play in the Garden of Stitch workshop in Miami November 3-6. That one is a combination stitching and collage class.

Stitching inspiration

I love teaching. Meeting new people who are interested in stitching as much as I am is a gift. Last week I spent time with 19 stitchers at Quilting by the Lake sponsored by the Schweinfurth Art Museum in Auburn, NY. They specialize in bringing teachers and students together to stitch, print, piece and contemplate quilted art together. I was lucky enough to get only the best stitchers—those with courage to take some chances, curiosity to see what might happen and stamina to do it all day long for five days. Many were beginners, some seasoned stitchers but everyone approached the work with beginner minds. The best kind.

So I decided to post some of their work here. These samples were some of the first exercises—just the beginning of a gallery of experimentation, representation and above all else, stitching. I can’t wait to see how they bring some of these techniques to their work.

Spending time together In a room devoted to an art form is like a shot of adrenaline for me. There is inspiration, frustration, and concentration for all. I recommend Quilting by the Lake, its track record in bringing inspiring teachers and devoted students together is proven by their loyal and eager student base. I was honored to be invited and energized by the experience.

A residency at the Virginia Center for Creative Arts

Let me tell you about a great experience. I was invited to the Virginia Center for Creative Arts in Amherst, Virginia for a 3-week residency. It turned my head around.

Here is a sampling of the things I saw and did.

The Campus

The Studio

New friends

My work

There was drama

That’s a ten bladed chain saw hanging from a helicopter that the railroad used to trim trees on their tracks. It traveled up and down those utility wires and the train tracks for two days. You could see those blades spinning. It sounded and looked apocalyptic.

The result

Surrounded by serious artists of all stripes I could not help but work all day and into the nights. The focus on serious pursuit of the work makes all the difference. We all toiled, we all celebrated each other, we all felt sheltered and honored. Did I mention three meals a day? I recommend this. Find a space that allows complete focus. Find other serious artists with whom to share the experience. Work hard and enjoy the privilege.

New beginnings, a refreshed spirit.